Secret Preference
by Millie
Summary: Nights like tonight they were something else entirely.


**I need more Andrea/Sharon. I am actually working on a longer fic with them, but this needed to come out. I hope you all enjoy a little Andrea/Sharon angst. Please read and review! And also please write more Andrea/Sharon! They have such great potential. **

She didn't know why she did it.

She had never been able to explain how it began, how one lunch led to dinners, to sleepovers due to over-intoxication, to drunken touching, kissing sessions on the couch to this near silent acceptance of stolen nights together.

Then Rusty came, then it became even more secret, more despicable because then she wasn't even allowed to stay the night or arrive at a decent time.

That's how she'd come to this moment, fighting desperately to not utter a sound, to mask the moan that was lodged deep down in her throat, working hard to not exhale or pant too loudly in case he could hear them across the hall. She raised her arm and bit the skin of her forearm, fighting to keep her breath steady as knowledgeable lips worked against her burning center.

It had happened like it always happened.

She had sensed the tension radiating off Sharon's body that day in the office. They hadn't had sex in weeks – had it been a month? – nor had they seen each other very often within that time. At work they were the best of colleagues, congenial, kind, focused.

Nights like tonight they were something else entirely.

Sharon had called at ten that evening. She sounded worn down, tired, in need of something more than a glass of wine and a quick, hidden smoke on her patio.

Andrea had arrived to the sight of a broken Sharon sitting outside with both poisons in hand.

She'd slid behind her and wrapped her arms around her, kissing her neck, putting the cigarette out and leading her silently to her bedroom.

But it was Sharon who took over from there. It was Sharon who hungrily undressed Andrea, kissing her all over, feverish in her ministrations. They'd fallen on to the bed and in minutes Sharon was between Andrea's legs kissing and sucking.

Andrea had been warned enough to keep as silent as possible and as Sharon fucked her she could taste blood from where she'd bitten into her own skin too roughly. _Fuck_, she silently thought to herself.

Andrea felt the building tension of her orgasm; she shifted and clenched the bed sheets with her hand, working as hard as possible to keep her scream silent. Her whole body convulsed, her legs tightening around Sharon's head, her back arching upwards. She twisted in the sheets to bury her head in Sharon's pillow – that smelled as wonderful as the woman herself – and groaned in to the softness.

Sharon removed herself from the bed and went to the bathroom to clean herself up. Andrea couldn't move for several minutes, she could only lay there hopelessly naked and exposed.

The bed dipped down and Sharon settled beside her, checking her phone for updated e-mails.

Andrea reached out and stroked her arm, wanting to feel close to her, for the older woman to cuddle her, touch her after fucking her. She could tell the brunette was more content, less tense than before. But it was always in moments like this that Andrea felt more and more like an outsider in Sharon's mysterious life.

They were technically nothing to one another and it didn't seem like whatever it was they were doing was going anywhere. Andrea, as an out and proud lesbian, would be fine in a relationship, but Sharon, whom was still technically married and much more closeted about her true preferences, seemed more content to keep them suspended in fuck buddy territory.

Sharon put her phone down and gave in to Andrea's want to cuddle. She pressed her lips to the younger woman's forehead before whispering, "you should leave soon."

Andrea sighed, feeling her blood boiling at the presumptuous way in which Sharon treated her. She rolled out of Sharon's warm, comforting arms and scooted to the side of the bed to locate her discarded underwear and shirt.

"Andrea, you don't have to leave right now." Sharon whispered, but made no move to stop her.

"No. I need to leave." Andrea finished re-dressing and without turning to face Sharon she left.

…

Sharon caught her the next day at the courthouse where both were making separate appearances. She pulled her in to an alcove. "You didn't have to leave like that, Andrea." Sharon silently snipped.

"I did have to. I'm sick of this arrangement. It's unfair to me." Andrea looked down at her watch, knowing she only had a few more minutes before she needed to leave to go back to court.

Sharon took a deep breath and glanced down at the ground. "I know. God, Andrea, I know."

"Well, then you should be capable of seeing how it makes me feel. I'm not just some toy you can pull out to play with whenever you want."

"Jesus, Andrea, I know that." Sharon, irritated, rubbed at her eye beneath her thick framed glasses.

"Then we have to stop. Now." Andrea firmly stated. "I'm late, I need to go."

"Wait," Sharon reached out, pulling her back in to their little alcove.

"What, Sharon?" Andrea looked irritated now.

"This is…"Sharon took a deep breath. "This is not easy for me."

"And you think it's easy for me?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying." Sharon insisted. "I…" She pulled Andrea closer to her, her grasp on her arm tight enough to bruise her. "I don't want to stop, but I don't know how…"

Andrea didn't help her, but instead stared on, waiting for Sharon to make her statement. What the fuck did she want with her?

"I wouldn't even know…where to begin…I'm straight." Sharon sighed, her eyes shifting to the side before closing. "I mean, my children for Christ's sake."

"Sharon, one step at a time, all right? If you are serious about me then I will help you through this. It's scary coming out. But I am not going to be your dirty little secret any longer. Got it?"

Sharon just nodded.

"Now let me go, I need to get back to court." Andrea freed herself from Sharon's grasp.

Sharon just fell against the cool marble of the courthouse wall, watching as Andrea moved away from her.

…

The call came in at eleven that night.

Andrea almost ignored it; she almost continued on watching Netflix, but some annoying curiosity deep inside told her to answer.

"Andrea," the older woman breathed in to the phone. She had been crying.

Andrea's heart hurt.

"Andrea, I want to try. Help me."


End file.
